


The Adventure of the Outbreak

by Bullet_Sangwich



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Halloween, Horror, M/M, Romantic Tension, Zombies, or something, stuff like that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 13:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/598209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bullet_Sangwich/pseuds/Bullet_Sangwich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft said London was a battlefield. He just never imagined what kind of war would happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the fuckyeahjohnlockfanfic October Contest. I was nowhere close to winning :D
> 
> Oh well, ZOMBIES!

Cold. Dark. Lifeless.

Provisions running low. Ammunition, too.

John peered out of the blinds, scanning Baker Street for any signs of movement. A slight stir on the street below caught his eye. He watched carefully, trying not to make himself obvious. If they noticed, they would come for him. They would come for Sherlock.

He kept watching, trying to make out the dark figures on the street. Survivors. He noted their every move, silently hoping they would make it through. One girl, terrified, from what John observed, bumped into a car on the street, accidentally taking out the headlight with her gun. The car alarm went off, sending a wave of panic through the few survivors and John as well. He heard shrill screaming, saw shadows against the buildings and knew that the fate of the survivors was iminent. 

There, John got a good look at what he was dealing with. Zombies. Almost the entire population of Britain had been turned in under a week. Luckily, for the rest of the world, the outbreak was cured. The last of the cure was supposed to be on its way to London for deployment, but there was no sign of it anywhere.

Mycroft said London was a battlefield. He just never imagined what kind of war would happen.

"John?" said a small voice coming from his bedroom. Mrs. Hudson appeared in the stairway, looking frightened. "What was that noise outside? It gave me a fright." John looked at her and sighed. "Nothing, Mrs. Hudson. You go back to sleep, you need rest." He gave her a nod and a reassuring smile. She left the stairway and John breathed deeply when he heard the door close softly behind her.

As soon as the outbreak occurred, Sherlock and John tried everything in their power to help as many of their friends as they could. They managed to get Mrs. Hudson to stay in their flat, and Greg, Sally, Anderson, and Molly were in another part of London, hopefully fighting for their lives together. Mycroft was barricaded in Buckingham Palace with the Queen and her family.

John looked again outside the window and saw that the group had been turned. He shook his head and felt his heart drop. He couldn't have prevented this. If he had let them into the flat, he would have endangered himself, Sherlock, and Mrs. Hudson. He felt selfish, but he couldn't have stopped it. 

"It's not your fault."

John turned around this time to be face to face with Sherlock. "Um.. yeah. I know. We just.. couldn't have let them in, one of them could have been scratched or bitten and they could have gotten Mrs. Hudson or.."

"Or you." 

John swallowed at the slight pain in Sherlock's voice. The Great Sherlock Holmes, never scared of anything, always one step ahead, always knowing what to do. But very rarely does he ever see this Sherlock. Vulnerable, terrified. If John's life is in danger, this side of Sherlock is the one to be seen.

"You too." John said. They both knew how much they needed each other, but it had never been more clear than in this moment.


	2. Chapter 2

Picking up a tie from his oh-so-carefully-indexed collection, John began to put it on as he looked out the window. Snow was falling outside. Just after Christmas, just after New Year. It was perfect. He walked over to the mirror to finish getting ready for his sister's wedding to her new girlfriend. He walked out of his room and downstairs, only to be stopped by Sherlock at the door. "Finally! I've been waiting down here for ages. What took so long?" Sherlock whined. "If someone hadn't indexed all of my ties, we would have left half an hour ago," John said, playfully smacking Sherlock's shoulder. They walked outside into the swirling snow and got into a cab.

When they arrived, John was in awe at how carefully designed and decorated the wedding was. He spied Harry from afar and walked to her, telling her how excited he was for her. "Oh John, I'm so happy. Annie has really done wonders for me. I think she cured my drinking problem! Much better than Clara ever was." Harry said, hardly containing her excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Harry. If you don't mind, Sherlock and I are going to get our seats. See you in a few!" John said, walking towards Sherlock.  
Moments later, the ceremony began. Harry stood at the altar, waiting for her bride-to-be. Everyone in the chapel turned to look as Annie walked down the aisle, long red hair flowing, an enormous smile adorning her face. She arrived at the altar and smiled at Harry, who smiled right back. After a small while, the vows began. John was watching the pair when he noticed Annie looked a little sick.

The pastor was about to declare them married when John noticed Annie's pale, white skin turn slightly green and purple, as if it was bruised all over. As they kissed, she began to convulse horribly. She collapsed, shaking on the floor. John rushed over to her to see if he could identify what was wrong. As he took her wrist for a pulse, she arched her back, eyes rolling into the back of her head. She sunk back down on the floor, lifeless. John looked up at Harry, who had a mixture of pain and sorrow upon her face. "I'm so sorry, Harry," he said. The look on Harry's face, however, changed from one of sadness to one of complete horror. He looked back down at Annie and saw that her eyes were no longer the shining green they once were, but were now white. Her teeth turned yellow and brown and were rotting, her mouth bleeding, the skin around it cracked. He jumped up and moved away from her. She rose up from the ground and viciously attacked the pastor, tearing off his skin and eating the flesh. Everyone in the chapel fled the scene, except John, Harry, and Sherlock. Annie let out a shrill scream at the three, preparing for the next attack. The pastor rose up behind her, releasing the same sound from his own mouth. 

John took Harry's hand as the three ran for the doors to the chapel. They reached the doors but couldn't open them. The churchgoers had barricaded it from the outside, hoping that the "infected" wouldn't get them, but not knowing that there were so many more outside. Sherlock grabbed John and led him and Harry towards another exit of the chapel, revealing a hallway that had a few doors. They barricaded the chapel doors and found a door that lead to a basement of sorts. They flew towards it, locking themselves inside. Sherlock flicked on the light and walked over to a chair to sit down. John led Harry to a seperate chair so she didn't faint from the shock.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Harry said, calmly walking over to the trash can, only to retch violently. John walked over to her and sat with her. Just like when they were kids.

"Sherlock.."

Sherlock was staring at the wall, fingers steepled. Thinking. Planning. Escape.

"Sherlock.. please. What are we going to do?"

"We need to find a way out. Unless they are away from the doors, we can't leave this room for a while. If we can get out, there is a possibility that they are not the only ones out there. We need to alert Lestrade so we can get our hands on some weapons we may need. Until then, we have to acquire blunt weapons to protect ourselves."  
"But what about Annie?!" Harry shouted hysterically. 

"Harry.. She's not coming back. She's gone," John said, taking her hand. Harry looked at him and began to sob. 

After a while, the three had collected weapons and carefully stepped out of the room, making no noise. They quietly walked down the dark hallway when a light flickered on at the end of the hall. "We'll make our way there. I've already texted Lestrade, but I have yet to recieve an answer," said Sherlock, in a hushed tone. As he finished his sentence, a new row of lights flickered on. Then another, and another, all the way until the entire hallway was full of light.

"H-Harry?" said a weak voice at the end of the hall. The trio turned around in horror to see Annie standing at the chapel doors. She looked normal, aside from the bright red blood staining her wedding dress.

"Annie! You-You're alright!" Harry started to run to her when John took her by the arm. "Harry, I don't think you should do this-" 

Before he could finish, she had already escaped his grip and was running down the hall. She embraced Annie in a hug. 

In that moment, John could swear that he had never seen anything more horrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how bout that flashback?   
> Shit is, quite literally, getting real, my friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the second flashback is crammed into this chapter; when I was writing, the chapter seemed really empty at first, so I threw it in there for shits and gigs.

John woke up slightly startled. He had fallen asleep at the windowsill while he was keeping lookout. He stood up and tried to shake the images from behind his eyes. He felt nauseous, but decided that he was just hungry, so he walked to the kitchen. As he opened the fridge, John looked around and saw that there was almost nothing in there. "Shit," he swore, realizing that he needed to make a trip out and try not to get killed in the process.

"John?" said a sleepy voice coming from the general direction of the sofa. Sherlock had fallen asleep waiting to switch positions for lookout. "Oh, I didn't see you. I have to..um," John didn't want to tell Sherlock that he had to go out. If he left, there was a 50/50 chance he won't come back. Just like if Sherlock was going to go, it would have broken his heart if he didn't come home. They needed each other. Their lives, souls, fates, all were far too tangled together for them to be ripped apart as though they were meaningless.

Sherlock knew that John was going to leave. He sat straight up on the couch, but cradled his head in his hands. He wanted John to stay in the flat where he could at least be out of immediate danger. "Please John," he started, unable to force any words out of his mouth.

"Sherlock.. I should be back fairly soon. I will try and gather all of the basics that we need. The radio says that the cure will be deployed to London within the next day or two. Everything will be normal again," he said, facing the detective. "I hope."

Sherlock stood up and walked over to John, handing him his gun. "Take mine. Just in case." He put it in John's hand and walked solemnly to the window.   
With a heavy heart, John looked back at Sherlock. "I.. um.. thank you."

Without turning to face him, he replied, "Thank you, John."

John walked out into the cold air, armed himself, and ducked around a corner into an alleyway where he was hidden from the world.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, God! Annie, I'm so glad you're back!" Harry said, giving her seemingly normal wife a hug.

"Me.. too.." Annie said, looking at John. Before John could stop her, Annie flashed him an evil grin as she sank her teeth into Harry's flesh.

"Harry!" John began to run to save his sister, but was stopped by Sherlock. 

"John, we have to go. Right now. I'm sorry, but it's too late."

John looked at Sherlock, then back at his sister as she convulsed on the floor, in the same manner her bride had a few hours beforehand. Blinking the tears out of his eyes, he grabbed Sherlock and they ran towards the outer doors. 

As they stepped outside, they were greeted with the grisly sight of a thousand more infected people. However, luck was on their side as Lestrade pulled up in a police car.   
"Get in, now!" The two men ran to the car, careful to avoid the zombies, but unafraid to take them out if needed. As they got in, Lestrade began to fill them in on when the attack started, how quickly the infection spread, and where he was taking them to get everything they needed.

John stared out his window, focusing his gaze on the horrendous sight of people being eaten alive. It was too much for him. He lost his only family member and was left with no one. He silently let the tears fall freely down his face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the "Major Character Death" warning applies. Just warning you.

Sherlock began to panic. John had been gone for more than a few hours without alerting Sherlock. Knowing John's strength and stealth, he was taking his time to avoid arousing suspicion. But John also would have texted if he was in trouble.

"Mrs. Hudson! I'm going out to help John get things we may need. Don't wait up for us." he said, hoping that she wouldn't hear the slight tone in his voice that suggested they may not be there for her to wait for.

Sherlock left the flat and took the same route that John took hours earlier. He noticed empty bullet shells almost leaving a trail for Sherlock. He followed them to the shop two streets over, successfully keeping out of harm's way. A few seconds after entering an alleyway across the street from the shop, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

'Shipment of cure is due to arrive within the hour. If you or John are or become infected, get yourselves to a medical centre immediately to reverse the symptoms. If you are bitten/scratched, you only have a 10 minute limit before effects are irreversible. -M'

Sherlock tucked his phone back in his pocket and quickly made his way across the street and into the shop. He heard a noise in the far back corner of the store. He quietly made his way around the corner of a shelf, panicking at the dark figure hunched in the corner.

. . .

John snuck out of the back room with a bag full of basic necessities and his hand gun. He quietly walked to the front room when he heard a bone chilling scream come from a different end of the store. His heart sank when he realized whose scream it was. He ran towards the end of an aisle so he could see who- and hope to God it wasn't- it was.

To his horror, his suspicions were confirmed. Sherlock was lying in a pool of his own blood. The lifeless body of a zombie was lying next to him, bludgeoned to death and not coming back anytime soon. "J-John.." Sherlock said weakly. John ran over to him, ripping off a piece of his shirt to stop the bleeding. He knew his fate was inevitable, but felt a need to help Sherlock. "Hey," he said, trying to give him a small smile. "Hey," Sherlock said, trying to return the same smile, but writhing in pain.

"Sherlock.. Oh God, I can't do this with you.. not after Harry. I can't lose you."

"John.. phone.." He said, trying to reach in his pocket, but failing.

John reached into his coat pocket to take Sherlock's phone out. "Check.. check my texts.. from Mycroft." He scrolled through his recent messages, finding one from Mycroft about the cure. "Okay Sherlock, I'm going to help you up slowly. How long has it been since you were bitten?"

"About.. ungh, 2 minutes."

"Okay. 8 minutes to get to a hospital. We need to commondere a vehicle, and fast." John spied a car that still had keys in the ignition. He helped Sherlock in whilst fighting off a few stray zombies. That dropped them to six minutes.

John got into the car and drove as fast as he could to the practice. Four minutes. When they got there, John kicked in the door to the emergency entrance and helped Sherlock inside. They ran into the nearest corridor where they encountered a few more zombies. John only shot one when he ran out of bullets. He killed the rest with a cane he found. Two minutes.

"John."

"Not now." 

"John!"

After killing the last one, he turned to see his companion. His skin was paler than usual and was beginning to take on the same color as Annie's at the wedding. "John.. come here please," he said, voice growing weaker. John rushed to his side, taking his hand in his own. One minute.

"Sherlock.. Sherlock please, I can't do this without you. I.."

"John. Listen to me carefully. If I turn-"

"No. No, Sherlock. No." Tears were threatening to fall. The sound of a helicopter was heard overhead. Thirty seconds.

"John. If I turn, I want you to know that I died telling my best friend.. what he truly means to me."

Ten.

"Sherlock.. Stay with me, Sherlock!"

Nine.

"John.. I.."

Eight. Footsteps rushing in.

"Sherlock! Please!"

Seven. Tears streaming down their faces.

"..love.. y-"

Six. Doors being kicked in. Few shots fired.

"What? Sherlock!"

Five. John takes Sherlock in his arms.

"You."

Four. Bruised skin beginning to form.

"I-I.. love you too!"

Three. The doors behind them breached.

"G-Good.."

Two. Sherlock went limp in John's arms.

"No... n-n-no. No! No no no no! Oh my God, no..."

One. John sprinted towards the men behind him and took a syringe full of the cure.

Zero. John stabbed it into Sherlock's arm, injecting the liquid into his body. When it was done, he cast it aside and hoped. He hoped and prayed and waited. After ten seconds, there was no response. He cradled the lifeless body of Sherlock Holmes in his arms, not caring if he was going to spring back to life and bite him. He lost too many and too much to care anymore. John cried into Sherlock's shoulder, cursing him and cursing himself and cursing God.

Only when a familiar hand lovingly patted his back is when his crying ceased. He pulled back and looked into the very much alive eyes of Sherlock. He smiled at John. "Death wanted to take me away from you. I didn't agree." John smiled at him and began to cry again into his shoulder, only this time, they were happy tears. He pulled back and looked at Sherlock again, their eyes locking for mere seconds before they were joined together in a kiss.

The injury on Sherlock's neck had healed sufficiently and they left the hospital in a car sent by Mycroft to pick them up. The attack was finally over, the cure released, and life beginning to hopefully return to normal.


End file.
